Just Friends!
by kneekole
Summary: Between one thousand inside jokes, one million highschool memories, and one sprinkle of illegal activities - Stan and Kyle fell in love.
1. Prologue

**Just Friends**.  
( I. )  
Prologue: Just Friends.__

__"And tonight will go on forever while we  
walk around this town like we own the streets  
and stay awake through summer like we own the heat  
Singing everybody wake up it's time to get down."

* * *

Guy's night is a motherfucking sacred event, I swear. If I were to ever read the bible I'm positive it would be a sin for us men not to do guys night.

As kids we used to do it almost every weekend. But now that were all mature and aging guys night has become even more sacred. Usually we can only do it when someone's parents are out, and tonight was no exception.

The Broflovski's were gone for the wonderful long weekend, leaving Kyle's house the perfect target for fun. Which is new since Kyle is such a worry wart, and by the end of guy's night I have no doubt that something illegal will be going down.

But that doesn't matter, because this night is going to totally kickass.

I can just feel it.

"Dude, calm down," I tried reassuring Kyle.

We were sitting in his bright living room waiting for trouble to arrive. I watched him chew his lip from my spot on the floor, trying to figure him out. I don't really know why he's worrying so much, his house is always fun and we only invited the usual.

Then again when the usual consists of Cartman, Kenny, and Butters so things could very well get freaky. Hell, I'm hoping _freaky _happens more than anything tonight.

"If we get caught, my parents will slaughter me," He complained again, and gave me a thoughtful look.

I rolled my eyes at him, just as the doorbell rang. And just like that, my adrenaline was pumping.

There's a common routine to these night you see. Cartman usually thinks up some totally ape-shit idea to try out, we all go crazy, and then the police usually chase us all the way home. Call me crazy, but I kind of like it.

Kyle jumped up from the couch, and rushed to the door, already sweating cows. Cartman let himself in, smirked and then flopped down on the polyester couch as if it were his throne. And for tonight only, he can be king.

Kenny waved to me, and then helped Butters untie his shoe laces. I watched as Butters took a seat on the doormat, and rubbed his knuckles anxiously as Kenny dealt with those hello kitty sneakers. I'll admit that I one hundred and twenty percent approve of what I see.

Ever since Butters started hanging around us more, Kenny has just been a bucket of sunshine. They should be married by now, end of story. The only thing preventing this marriage is the fact that Kenny is so stuck-up, and Butters is completely oblivious.

The two take a seat ahead of me so that Kenny's sprawled out with his legs resting on Butters lap. That poor kid Butters is playing with Kenny's dirty ass socks too. Kyle took a seat next to me on the ground, and I gave his shoulder a light squeeze.

And then, the king speaks.

"Tonight gaiz, we are going to tepee Mr. Garrison's house, then egg Bebes place. Any questions douche bags?" Cartman says this so casually, I have to laugh at his fatass.

Kyle's face is flushed, and Butters looks like he might have the shits. But it doesn't matter, we're doing this shit. Kenny gave a little whoop of approval, and then unzipped his pants. For what reasons, only god knows.

"Bebe is a whore , egging her house is perfect!" Kenny continues, grinning like an idiot.

But the King isn't listening. I doubt anyone really is. It's a proven fact that Kenny had slept with every girl in South Park very - like twice. This comes as no surprise to any of us.

Cartman reached into his red backpack, and unloaded our weapons. I'm surprised to see he actually planned this ahead. But alas, two cartons of eggs and about ten rolls of toilet paper spill from his bag. I steal a quick glance at my super best friend, and I can tell he's impressed.

We gathered around the little wooden coffee table, and made our plan.

"Stan drives."

"Jew boy unloads jewels from the back."

"We all meet at the back of the scrap metal, and unleash our shit."

Kyle kicked Cartman's massive thigh from under the table, and the whole room shakes,"Don't call me that fatass!"

"Suck mah balls Kahl!" and with those parting words, we all piled into my car. I checked the dashboard clock, just as Butters began to sing along to a Brittney Spears song on the radio.

11:14.

I smiled to myself because the night was still young.

Once upon a time I was really depressed. Or as Craig so politely told me one day, "One fucking punk-ass emo." That was a really tough time for me, but the aftermath made everything better. After I got over my whole sad phase, I was a changed person. I saw everything differently. Take tonight for example, a bunch of boys disturbing the peace, and breaking the law. But as I see it, were just having as much fun as possible, and living life to the fullest before we die.

You only have one kick at the can, so why not egg your teacher's house?

It was extremely dark for midnight, and the air is chilly and stale. We all sat in my car, breathing too loudly, right outside the house. Gnomes and ugly flowerbeds taunted us openly, and then finally it was time.

Cartman whipped his side door open, and signalled us with a thrusting motion to take our battle stations. "Get 'er done gaiz!" He bellowed widely, already holding two rolls of toilet paper.

I rushed to the trunk, which Kyle loomed beside with a lop-sided smile on his face. I grabbed the paper, and give him a nudge with my elbow. His green eyes lit up and he whispered "Get her done, Stan."

The Cobra commander had spoken. I aimed my roll directly onto a squatting gnome, decorating the property in white strings.

My senses are going nuts. I hear laughter and dogs barking all around me, and I physically feel the blood coursing through my veins. I take a moment to see what going on around me. Butters has pulled his pink jacket closer to his nose, and was gently placing the toilet paper around the truck of the tree. He skipped merrily around it, still fucking singing Brittney spears.

Kenny is throwing shit up into the dark looming tree, letting it fly from the branches. The white sheets flutter in the wind, dangling in strands. I can't see Kyle or Cartman, but I sure as hell see what happens next.

"Fuck!"

On the second floor of the flat, a light flickered on. That was the sign, that we should book it.

And in ten seconds flat, were fucking out of there.

The egging went pretty well, but everything has to come to an end eventually. One notable plus about the egging was that Bebe herself opened up her window and had gotten hit right in the face. She wasn't egged by any ordinary egg either, more like an egg thrown at 100 miles per hour.

I pranced into Kyle's house, completely high on life.

"Oh hamburgers!" Butters exclaimed, flopping down on an armchair beside the couch. "Is it finally bedtime?" He asked innocently, batting his pale eyelashes.

Kyle nodded happily, his curls just bouncing. "You douches know the drill," he said, waving his hand nonchalantly. "Just don't break anything, I'm warning you!" his voice goes shrill, so we know he's not kidding around.

Kenny winked, and then turned on the TV just as I'm turning away. I followed Kyle slowly up the stairs, because I too know the drill.

Whenever anything happens at Kyle's house, we always sleep together. I don't care what anyone says, cause were not gay or anything. The other dudes always find a place to crash. And it's interesting to say the least to go searching for them in the morning. I remember one time we even found Kenny butt naked in the bathtub.

Kyle quickly throws his orange shirt off, and I watched him uninterested. When he began to unbutton his pants, I laughed, "Before the nights over, I bet I will see each and every one of you naked."

He turned to me and threw his pants into my face, blinding me long enough not to see him naked at all. It's kind of my thing to state how nude we will get every time. It started as a joke, but now that I think about it my predictions are very true.

"Whenever I'm with you, we always get naked anyways," he chuckled, climbing into his cozy bed. I joined him almost instantly.

"Tell me about it!" I say, pulling the cotton blanket up to cover both of us comfortably. "Skinny dipping, streaking, flashing people, naked twister, strip poker, nud-"I find laughter bubbling from my lips before I could finish. I turned on my side, causing the bed to creek in protest. I ignored it and stared at Kyle.

His eyes were shut, and his cheeks are brushed a pink hue. His tiny lips were parted slightly, and his curly red locks are taking over the entire bed.

His sleeping face brings me peace and I kind of like that.


	2. Peterpan Syndrome

**Just Friends**.  
( II. )  
Chapter One: Peter Pan Syndrome.__

__"If i told you things i did before  
told you how i used to be  
would you go along with someone like me  
if you knew my story word for word  
handled all of my history  
would you go along with someone like me."

* * *

Sometime during that night, a beastly monster snuck into our room, and attacked. Cartman crept over the carpet floor, waving his arms around. He bent over the bed, leering down at us. I felt a horrible sickening feeling, in my sleep.

"WAKE UP GAIZS!" He screamed, without a morsel of mercy.

My eyes shot open, and I let out a silent scream. I don't handle monsters at night very well and neither does Kyle. He jumped three feet out of the bed, and landed awkwardly on the floor. His ass was sticking up in the air, while his head was stuck somewhere in the sheets.

"What the fuck!" Kyle lashed out. He rolled over, and threw the sheets away from his face.

"It's time for some moar fun gaiz!" Cartman is jumping up and down on the balls of his feet, looking like a little kid again.

The clock on the wall reads 3:14 in the effing morning.

"Come on, everyone else is alreaduh ready!" Cartman bolted away from us, and basically fell down the stairs. I heard a loud thumping sound, and then laughter. Honestly that boy can be such a douche when he wants to be.

I stared sleepily after him, but decided I shouldn't miss out on all the fun. Kyle was still on the ground, just staring at the off-white ceiling. I outstretched my hand for him, reaching closer. He took it without a beat, and I hoisted his little frame up. He wobbled against me slightly, and I grinned at him.

"And here we go," I whispered, pulling him along with me, as I fly down the stairs.

We waited in the shadows of the bushes, just across an intersection. This square was fairly simple, a strip-mall at one side, a tall professional building across from that, and then residential housing everywhere else. It was really dark out, but the stars twinkled from above, and bright lights streamed from the crosswalk.

I took a shallow breath in, and mentally prepared myself. The wind was cool against my bare skin, and I had to fight of the urge to cover my nakedness. "Why are we streaking again?" I asked no one in particular.

"Shush your lips marsh!" Kenny whispers mockingly, and then gave me a slap on the bare bum. I jumped at the contact, and made a yelping sound.

"Shut teh fuck up both of you!"

Kyle's teeth were chattering away beside me. Obviously he was much shyer then me, since his hands were covering up all his lower regions. I had to give him props though, Butters wasn't even naked. Instead he was clad in bright pink and white stripped speedo.

The seven of us stood huddled on the sidewalk, hidden in the shadows of the underbrush. Lights flicked from the post above, while cars lazily speed through in all directions. For three in the morning, things were actually quite busy. The light post turned red, signalling the cars to stop. A faint beeping sound started up as the walk sign lit up. I heard Cartman hiss from somewhere behind me, and then he was gone.

"LET IT RIP!" He shrilled beasting onto the catwalk.

Cartman was strutting his stuff on the walk, rolls jiggling and all. I burst into a fit of laughter which echoed back at me from every angle. The rest of the boys joined in, hollering and making other queer sounds. It sort of reminded me of a whales mating call.

We charged. I know it sounds crazy, but I felt simply on top of the world. My blood thundered through my veins like a rocket, and I was breathing so hard.

"I know you want this!" I heard Kenny scream, whipping his member into the sky.

Basically our arms were thrown up into the air, waving widely. Laughter and screaming pounded in my eardrums, and bright lights blinded me. I bounced happily, gaining satisfaction as cars started honking widely, and something else blared at me.

But it gets better.

Butters being the amazing kid he was doing cartwheels across the strip of gravel. His smile glowed brightly as he turned twirls, and went head over heels. The bright pink fabric against his crotch stood out in contrast to the dark intersection.

"Suck mah balls!" Cartman cursed as one car inched closer to our little parade. He stood his ground in front of the angry car, and frowned deeply. He placed his hands on hips.

"I said, how would you like to suck mah balls?" He repeated again, except this time he added a little spice. And when I say spice, I mean he fucking pissed on the car's windshield. He took his wiener and shot hot piss all across the car windows, screaming all the while.

Imagine that: five boy's stark naked, cart wheeling and peeing in rushing traffic, at 3 in the morning.

My heart sputtered crazily in my chest, and I let out a wolf whistle. But then as my whistle echoed back at me, another sound ripped through the air - police sirens. Imagine that: five boys, stark naked, running from a police cruiser at 3 in the morning.

Yeah, story of my life.

This time when I crawled into bed beside Kyle, it was much different. Since it was already so late now, we would only be getting a couple hours worth of sleep. And with my fucking insomnia, I wouldn't be sleeping at all.

So I found something else to do.

First off I tip-toed downstairs to see where everyone else decided to crash. We barley outran that police car, mostly because Cartman is so fucking out of shape. Butters even fell once, and scraped up his knees. Kenny made sure to bandage it up real good though. And I applaud his efforts.

When we finally managed to get into Kyle's house, he locked the door, and we laughed for hours. But now things were so quiet. The only sound in the house was my own footfalls going down the old wooden staircase.

Cartman had fallen asleep on the base of the stairs, and his drool was being soaked up into the carpet. I wrinkled my nose in disgust, and did my best to step over him. When my foot sank into something soft and plump, I jumped from the stairs all together.

With a loud thud, I hit the ground. I glanced around nervously wondering if I had woken anyone. A gnarly snore informed me that everything is a-okay.

As I approached the living room, a strange feeling washed over me.

Kenny was asleep on the floor, still naked. He was curled up in a ball shape, right up against the couch. On the couch Butters is fully clothed and sound asleep. He's facing Kenny, and his hands are dangling over the couch cushion.

Even in their sleep there drawn to each other.

I headed back to the stairs. I crouched in front of Cartman's chubby face and snickered silently. With multiply magic markers, I gave Cartman's face a little colour. And a moustache, and a penis drawing, and a Nazi sign on his forehead.

And with that, I head back upstairs. Kyle's calling me, I can tell.

Kyle's clutching a pillow at his side, and mumbling sweet nothings into it. My heart swells up at the thought, and I'm not sure why. Maybe I'm just jealous of the pillow. But I know that can't be right. Kyle is my super best friend, I practically own him.

My eyebrows quirk at this thought, and I gently lowered myself back onto the bed. I spooned myself against the Jew, and wrap my arms around his tiny waist. It smells like oranges and sweat all around me, but the only thing I can really see is his colossal Jew fro.

Times passes by me slowly, but I don't really mind. I sort of phased in and out of real life; dozing off a couple times. Approximately ten billion years later, a pretty yellow light filtered in from Kyle's curtains and rays of golden sun danced across my face. I opened my eyes groggily, and felt Kyle stir.

He turned around in my embrace, to face me. His green eyes fluttered open, and I have never seen them so alive before. "Mmm," He mumbled, and then closed his eyes again. He's fighting the sleep away, but I'm not sure if he can win this battle.

I watched him in total bliss, finding new ways to be awed by him with each passing has this silly grin on his face, so I couldn't help myself from waking him once again.

"G'morning sunshine."

This time his eyes fly open for good, and he blinked away all his sleepiness. He looked up at me through half-closed lids, and his eyes are so full of raw emotion it hurts to look directly into them.

Something strange happens.

My breath gets caught in my throat.

My eyes fall closed.

And my heart stalls.

When I open my eyes again, he's smiling. "Hi Stan," He whispers against my face.

His breath is sweet, as is swirls up around my face. It feels warm being so close to him like this. My heart is beating so loudly now, I feel embarrassed. Why am I feeling this way?

Kyle snuggles up to my body, and I briefly wonder if he can feel my heart too. I concentrate on his chest, and I felt a light beat from under his shirt. His heart is beating just as fast. No correction. His heart is beating just as fast, right next to my heart.

That's when it happens. That's the moment everything I ever knew just exploded. That's when my heart imploded within itself. That's the second my whole life turned into a fucking circus.

Because I finally realized: if I don't get to wake up beside Kyle every morning, I don't really want to wake up at all.

And I think that fucking means something.


	3. Getaway Spaceship

**Just Friends.**  
(August.31.)  
**Chapter Two: Getaway Spaceship.  
**

_"Woke up this morning, and suddenly realised were all in this together!  
I started smiling 'cause you were smiling, and were all in this together!"_

* * *

**Stans P.O.V**

Everything around me was so colourful, so warm, just so perfect. My entire body was being filled up with a magical feeling, as if I was being stuffed to the brim with sunshine. But then suddenly the whole world got cold, and nothing was left in thecnicolour.

I woke up in reality. My head was fucking killing me, and the sun was way too bright for eleven in the morning. I reached around my silk cocoon of a bed, and tried to locate my phone. I found the ghetto thing under the pillow and stuck it to my ear.

"Three new voice mail," The robotic voice shrilled. I mechanically punched some keys on my phone.

"Shave them pubes marsh, nobody needs to see that shit.. ahahah!"

Kenny. That was defiantly Kenny prank calling me, again. I instantly deleted the dumb message, and I curled up closer into my bed sheets.

"Dude, call me."

I perked up slightly from the sound of Kyle's voice. I still hadn't gotten used to the whole 'im-in-love-with-my-super-best-friend-who-is-a-guy-so-what-the-hell' thing.

"Stan. It's.. me _again._ Schools on Tuesday so don't forget. This is officially the last day of summer."

I shot up from my bed, my eyes bulging out of my bed head face. I had totally forgotten that summer was not ever lasting, and that grade eleven was sneaking its ugly head at me.

My head was swimming - I had wasted so much time.

"I have to tell him," I breathed, without really thinking. I heard my voice speak those words, and when I actually thought about it I whispered again,"I need to tell Kyle."

And this time, I meant it.

There is no possible way to prepare yourself when it comes to admitting to your best friend that you're gay. Or that you like him. Or that you're gay _and_you like him.

I sat in my room for hours staring at my blank ceiling, just trying to grow some balls. I was not man enough to handle this. Not like any of that mattered, since Kyle would be coming over in less than twenty minutes.

I ran my hand through my tussled hair, and sucked in a breath of air. I jumped up, and sauntered toward my vanity mirror. I wasn't looking great but I never really do. My hair is a beast sitting atop my head, and dark rings encircled my eyes. I'm wearing a simple bright blue shirt, and jeans. Barefoot, with chapped lips. I was extremely unconfident with my looks today, for today no amount of hair gel or glitter could make me brave enough to confess to Kyle.

The Stan in the mirror gave me a worried look and I glared back at him.

"I am Stan Marsh, and I am sexy and charming. I will confess my attraction. I will." Even my voice resembled the confidence of a prepubescent _girl._

What exactly would I say? I hadn't even figured that much out. Well, I guess I could tell him I was attracted to men; especially men with catastrophic Jew fros and big noses. And I could tell him that since school is coming up so soon, that I think I'm in love. Then maybe I could tell him I'm totally crushing on him, in a totally homosexual way.

Yeah. I'll say that much, when pigs fly.

I was sweating buckets by then, and by the sound of my breathing I think I've started hyperventilating. To make matters worse, the doorbell has just rung.

I was panicking something fierce. I succumbed to the wall, bracing myself against it. I practised breathing but it feels like the room was spinning. All my posters were warping into a blur of colours, and the floor was trembling before my feet.

Something came into my vision, and I finally stopped spinning: Kyle Brofloski.

All the colour rushed from my face, like I'd just witnessed a murder. Kyle Brofloski was here in my room right now.

Fuck my life.

And he was looking gorgeous. Probably the best I've ever seen him: curly red hair, green foam eyes, and little freckles that sprinkle across his nose.

His cheeks were kissed pink, and he was panting, "Sorry I'm late; I had to help Ike with something."

"Don't worry man, its cool," I managed to squeak.

Kyle paced my room, and then whipped his head at me. There was something in his eyes that I couldn't quite read, "So what's the big emergency?"

I wanted to die then so badly. I've made a terrible mistake, this was wrong. I'm not going to go through with this anymore. I gave up.

But instead my mouth makes a sound resembling, "Let's go out on my roof."

Kyle's eyebrows shot up, "This must be really important, dude. Your roof is special."

He was right. The only time I ever brought people out on my roof were for serious matters. Kyle and I sat on the roof many times when I was depressed, and after I broke up with Wendy.

But this time, it was all about him.

I cranked open my window, and jumped through it onto the flat tiles of the roof. I took Kyle's hand and helped him over the windowsill, because he can never make it over by himself. I held his hand longer then I should, but I couldn't help myself.

It was sunny outside, and the sun beamed its warm rays across our faces. From our view on the roof, I could clearly see a park and hear children laughing.

Kyle sat with his back against the house. I sit with my knees hugged against my chest.

"Okay dude, spill it!" He said with excitement in his voice.

I gapped at him.

"Stan we're super best friends, you can tell me whatever."

"I THINK IM IN LOVE," I blurted out, covering my face in embarrassment. I peeked through my fingers and saw that Kyle was grinning at me.

"Who's the poor girl this time, Marsh?" He snickered at me.

There's no way around this, I've come too far to lose it all. There I was balls deep. I thought about everything I'd said before, and how I was truly feeling. I was almost positive that Kyle might like me back, if he wasn't I wouldn't be here with him now. It's the way were super best friends, yet something more. It's the way I touch him, yet it's never enough.

It's the way, I wish I could fall asleep with him every night and wake up right beside him too.

"Y-you!" I stuttered.

He was dumbfounded to say the least. His whole face was a question mark, just waiting for the answer, "What?"

"I said, I think I'm in love with you," my heart was skyrocketing in my ribcage, and I doubted my lungs even worked anymore.

I don't know honestly what I was expecting, but it wasn't the answer he gave me.

He looked my square in the eyes, and simply said, "You're wrong."

My head jerked up slightly, and I was taken aback. "No, Kyle I think we're both feeling the same thing here!" I said more defensive this time.

"How the fuck would you know how I feel!" he basically screamed at my face.

Mayday, mayday, abort mission. This whole talk has backfired and the shit has officially hit the fan. Amazingly I don't feel offended or rejected. Instead I felt this new found strength, a weird tingle that pushed me forward.

"I'm not wrong. I really like you, and you know it."

His face distorted, and I think he's about to explode. He jumped up, and ran back into the house via window. I watched him from the roof; he slammed the front door and then proceeded to walk down the street towards his house.

The worse thing is he walked away from me.

No.

The worse thing is that we walked away from me, and never looked back.

**Kyles P.O.V  
**

Stan is a motherfucking idiot.

He's impulsive and spontaneous. He's too headstrong for his own good, and he strives to high. He can be a huge asshole, and has no regards for other people's feelings.

And I've been in love with him ever since the fourth grade.

Technically I've been in love with him for seven years. And after those seven years, when he finally returned my affection I flat out reject him.

What the hell is wrong with this world?

I'm lying in my bed, listening to the same song on repeat. In pulsed in my pale room, but it gave me minimal comfort. My face was tear stricken and I had the hiccups. But it's all for a good cause. I have to deal with my heartbreak somehow.

Any normal person would thing I'm a complete douche for ignoring Stan like this. But they don't understand my motives. Stan is way too good for me and he deserves so much more than this.

Like let's see: I'm a freaking angry Jew. I look like I'm anorexic, and I have the most horrendous bright orange hair. Not to mention I got my mother's nose.

I can't offer him anything. And I'm sure as hell not going to drag him down the whole homosexual path. I don't want him to go through all the ridicule and hate.

But the biggest factor is that Stan liking me is a dream come true. So it must be bullshit. He doesn't actually like me; he's just mistaken about his own feelings. If anything were to happen between us, he'd soon realize that he never actually thought much of me. And that would break my heart. Not only would it kill me, it would also ruin our friendship. And if I can't love Stan, I should at least be able to have him as a friend.

In conclusion: there are so many reasons why I should torture myself and deny Stan.

I just wish, for once in my life, I could win. And have what I really want - but not this time.

My boom box retracts, and starts replaying my song for the hundredth time. I open my small mouth and sing along. I know all the words by heart and it's so ironic, "_We are, we are, we are just friends_."

* * *

The steam swirled around in the compact room, and fogged up the mirror. I let the hot water roll down my back, and relax my muscles. That's what I love about hot showers; they can help you forget about anything. It's like all your worries just evaporate in the steam, and disappear.

That is until that something hunts you down.

The bathroom door creaked, and something banged on it three times, "Kyle open up, the phones for you!" a muffled voice hollered at me from the other side.

I snarled my lips, and shut off the water taps. I bounded out of the shower and grabbed the nearest tower, wrapping it loosely around my waist. Small bubbles tickled my body, as I whipped open the door, "What?"

Ike stood with his arms crossed against his chest. He looked pretty pissed. "The phone has been ringing non-stop Kyle. So I suggest you take this call already!" He thrust my cell phone towards me, and stormed away in a hurry. It's a shame that kid is so smart; he's already figured me out.

All my anger vanished from me and a sickening feeling enveloped me in its place. I locked the bathroom door, and placed my hand on the countertop for support.

"Hi?" I say into the phone receiver.

"Just tell me how you feel.. I need your voice tonight, just tell me how you feel."

Stan Marsh. I inhaled harshly, and waited with the phone glued to my ear. My chest felt hollow, and it ached with a dull thudding pain.

"Just tell me how you feel in five words or less."

I raked my brain, putting words together that fit perfectly, "Stan we are just friends."

"KYLE! I just realised something!" Stan's voice exploded in my ear.

I snorted air through my nose, and braced myself. He must had realized he hadn't liked me allot sooner then I imaged. This would make things easier. "What?"

"You don't believe what I said is true! So I just need to prove to you how I feel!"

I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion, and began to chew on my bottom lip, "What the hell?"

"Listen. School starts tomorrow, and I'm going to show you how I feel. I will keep trying until you see it!"

It was silent. I don't say anything.

"Is that okay Kyle?" His voice is laced with some emotion I can't name; as if he's asking for my permission.

I contemplated this for a moment. After I already rejected him, the least I could do is let him try. He would try some stupid stunts, and finally discover that I'm not worth his time. Then hopefully we could go right back to being super best friends. But for every time he tried, a little bit of me would die. That would suck, but if I couldn't have Stan as anything else, I would settle for just being friends.

"You can try dude," My voice is all airy, and my face felt warm.

"Then let the games begin!" Stan said with so much gusto, I'm actually scared. I can just picture his face across town: smiling so wide, that the skin on his cheeks look like they're about to split open. I bet he'll come to school, with stitches across his mouth.

I shake my damp hair slowly, chuckling, "Bring it on buddy."

It was quiet for a moment. I listened to our breaths mingle through the phone.

"Sweet dreams Brofloski," he whispered.

"Night Stan."

I hung up the phone, and drew furious scribbles into the fog on the mirror. When I was done, it turned out all I did was doddle lop-sided hearts around his name.

And I hate myself for it.


	4. Teenage Dirtbags

**Just Friends.**  
(September.1.)  
**Chapter Three: Teenage Dirtbags.**

_"But he doesn't know who I am_  
_And he doesn't give a damn about me_

_Cause I'm just a teenage dirtbag baby_  
_Yeah I'm just a teenage dirtbag baby_  
_Yeah dirtbag, no he doesn't know what he's missing."_

* * *

The birds are singing, and the sun is shining. I frailed my arms out, and screamed blindly at it all.

"Shut up, shut up, and shut up!" Ike screamed from the bedroom beside me. No doubt I probably woke him up in my stupid fit.

But I don't even care, because today is September second. And that means it is the first day of grade eleven at South Park High.

The full body mirror beside my dresser increases the horror of today. My hair is too bright, and my dress shirt was creased and rumpled. I threw on the nearest pair of jeans from the floor, and spray enough cologne on to kill several people at once.

I sucked in a large gulp of air, and forced a smile. Hello world, meet Kyle Brofloski.

I grabbed my blue chequered backpack, and dashed out the door. I sighed quite tragically because I'm not quite ready to face life.

"You're looking absolutely marvellous dear," Stan cooed at me the second I bounded the corner to our bus stop. I leaned against the bus pole, and huffed a big breathe of defeat. I told myself I wouldn't be affected by Stan's antics; I told myself I didn't like this boy.

I lied.

Stan's the one who looks like he belongs on a runway. I swear he doesn't give a damn, but he always looks fantastic. His hair is messy and teased, and I think he's even wearing eyeliner again. Simple red beanie hat and torn jeans makes Stan a very sexy kid.

"Excited for school, douche?" I asked, instead of confessing my huge boner for him.

He flipped his hair out of his piercing blue eyes, and shrugged his messenger bag atop his shoulder, "Grade fucking eleven Kyle, I feel so old!"

I nodded profoundly at his statement. Showing I full-heartedly agreed.

"Just promise you won't try anything funny on the first day," I say hanging my head. I say this in all honesty though. The last thing I need for today is for the whole damn school know I'm too pathetic to deal with my own feelings.

Stan waved enthusiastically to some figures in the clearing, and then smirked at me.

His smirk sent a shiver down my spine, and I contemplated just ditching school to hide in a big dark corner.

"Too late," he sings, shaking his head. He continued to sing in an off-key obnoxious way, just to prove to me that I really needed to find new friends.

Wait, I already knew I should have new friends. I should find friends who are intellectual, and enjoy the more sophisticated things in life. Yet amazingly, I found myself oddly attached to these turds who ride trashcans as a hobby.

Yeah, I said it.

Trashcan riding suckers.

We're all walking to school together, perfectly in sync. We're all holding hands, and striding up to the school as if we own the fucking place. It was Wendy's idea to sing something to get us all pumped to face this new challenge. And what other theme song do we choice, then that 70's show.

Most of the time, I feel stupid and rowdy when I'm around these kids. But as South High looms at me, only a few steps away, I embrace this strange friendship.

It's still an unsolvable mystery that only Scooby doo and friends would be able to figure out. How the hell did we six ever become such tight friends?

I mean seriously? Wendy is way too cool for us, and could probably be the most popular girl at school. Cartman is a huge asshole, who is now fatter than ever. Butters acts like an oblivious baby, and still doesn't know what a penis is. Kenny is a white trash whore, who sleeps with the whole student body. Stan is the average teenage boy, who took the world by storm. And I'm the pissy Jew.

Yet when mixed together, we create something simply magical.

I rip my attention from my friends, and focus on the school itself. South High isn't as ghetto as it sounds. Surprisingly it's actually a pretty decent building. Its three stories high and the windows are wide bright glass. The whole building is a soft red brick, and green grass and sports field surround the premises. A flag pole stands high at the front of the school, where a huge arch reads our school name.

Once we approach the building my buzz quickly dies out. The ugly truth speaks for itself. Summer is over, and school is just beginning.

"Fuck," I say.

But five other voices, say the exact same thing, at the exact same time.

We all burst out in laughter, and cause a scene. Snorting and giggling, as if the funniest thing ever had just happened to us. People nearby stare and mock us. I don't even bother to look at their snotty faces, because I`m having fun with the people who matter to me.

* * *

Truthfully, I was feeling really bashful by the time I stepped into my homeroom class. Why? Because I found out the first thing Stan did on his quest to win over my heart. And to make things even more glorious, the entire school, one thousand people, approve.

I walked into the hallways of my school, for the first time in months. Things hadn't changed that much, check red floor and pale blue and pink lockers. Only one major change, the hundreds of flowing papers, taped to lockers and scattered around the floors.

Kids grabbed at the white sheets, and threw them up in the air. I grabbed one sheet which was floating above my hair and read the thing as everyone around me busied the hallways. Every sheet said the exact same thing, I checked.

_Dear Bro. K._

I wanna tell you my secret.  
And leave it on your lips.  
Wanna sing it through your body.  
Wanna tell you through a kiss.

If I told you my secret.  
Would you swear to keep it?

Love, love, love: Mr. Sparky

It was so painfully obvious, I just had to smile. Girls littered the halls, gushing over the stupid love note, while guys smirked and kicked around the papers. No one knew, expect me and Stan.

_Bro. K. _That was me: Brofloski Kyle - in simple Initials.

Mr. Sparky that was Stan since his old gay dog was named sparky.

So he was serious about this game. My heart skipped a few beats, and I folded the note into my pocket. I was too excited for this; I was going to get hurt. Yet, I couldn`t get myself to think about the consequences of my actions, as I watched the white notes flutter around me like confetti.

Here comes the bride.

* * *

It was the same routine every day, for four years. Four classes a semester each day, with one lunch period smack down in the middle. Every morning we turned on the classroom television to watch the morning announcements, and then go straight to work.

I took a seat near the front of the weary room, and whipped out my supplies. I glance around casually trying to see who was in my homeroom English class. Luckily, I have absolutely no one. I can't name a single face in this room, and I'm dreading the first bell.

The TV flickers on, and A greasy ginger kid is grinning ear to ear.

"Good Morning, Lancers! I'm sure you've all had a great summer. This year –"

I tune out his nasally voice, and sing in my head. Until something catches my eye on the screen: white papers.

"Everyone agrees this is quite the charmer! The whole schools trying to figure out who the school love birds are! Even Principal Garrison approves of this random act of kindness."

I must have looked pretty mortified, since the girl sitting beside me patted my back and smiled at me.

"So spread the love Lancers, and enjoy your first day!

My jaw was hanging just above my desk, and I was in utter disbelief. The school was actually supporting this crazy stunt, hell they were promoting it! I'm almost H.I.V positive this gives Stan more slack to do even crazier things.

I could hear the gears in his head turning, as he imagined elephants painted in my favourite colours, and lots of kosher baked goods.

I almost walked right out of that class, but it was too late now.

The games were just beginning, I groaned inwardly, as the bald crome-dome at the front leered at the class.

* * *

With my nose stuck in-between my class schedule, I managed to make it to my second period of the day. Science has always been enjoyable. I get lost in all the chemicals reacting with each other, creating something unexpected and beautiful. Kind of like me and all my friends.

In the midst of trying to come up with some cheesy quote about friendship being like a chemical reaction, Wendy came over and sat her tush on the stool beside me. She has just chosen me over everyone else in the room to be lab partners, for the rest of the year. And, I'm kinda cool with that.

"Hey."

She ignores my question and pulled out a pink slip of paper. She rotates it right in the middle of our square desk.

"Check this out Kyle," She points her delicate finger across the page, where written out in curvy handwriting is a chart. I just happen to notice it's all our names, and a list of classes, teachers, and rooms. "It's all our schedules on one page, so we can compare classes!" She whispers to me, as many other kids sit around the room and pick partners.

I give her hand a friendly squeeze of appreciation for all her hard work tracking down this information. Then I eye rape the sheet, memorizing each piece of information. The teacher still hasn't come to class, and some kids in the back are trying to snort some write powder substance in a jar.

_Wendy: Photography. Science. __**LUNCH.**__ Fashion. Art.  
Cartman: Photography. Business. __**LUNCH.**__ Foods. Art.  
Stan: Gym. English. __**LUNCH.**__ Math. Art.  
Kyle: English. Science. __**LUNCH**__. Math. Art.  
Kenny: Gym. History. __**LUNCH.**__ Math. Art.  
Butters: Geography. History. __**LUNCH**__. Vocals. Art._

My mind whirls, then I come to some conclusions. Wendy and Cartman have photography together, while Stan and Kenny have Gym together first period. Second class me and Wendy have Science, and Kenny and Butters have History. We all spend lunch together in the cafeteria. Third period Me, Stan and Kenny have math. Then the whole damn group has the last period together, in art class.

Holy ass-masturbation! I was pumped for art class! The six of us in the same class, making art! I laugh out loud, and then turn to Wendy, "All hell is going to break loose in art."

She grins, and folds her sheet away. She starts up a conversation about her summer break, and soon I'm lost in a deep talk about shopping sprees and boys.

It turns out the Science teacher never made it to our class and I barely even noticed.

* * *

Lunch, the most precious time at school. I follow Wendy into our old cafeteria, and feel a wave or nostalgia wash over me. It looked exactly the same way; I had left it last year.

There was still over crowded white tables, packed with different groups. Each table had a label and each person at that table fit a certain stereotype; Except for my table. Trays packed with greasy food were a common sight, along with cranky Chefs and janitors.

I scanned the tables trying to find our trademark table. The broken down one, with Kenny's name carved across the top of it. I spot it right beside a bright wide window. As I make my way to my home, I have to dodge hundreds of hungry people and loud squawking. I glance over all the tables. Everything seems to be in place: The Goths and the skaters, the band geeks, and the plastic popular kids, the artsy drifters, the badass druggies, and the nerds.

It makes me feel completely at ease. It's like this is where I belong.

And I want to belong here, more than anything.

* * *

**Stans P.O.V**

* * *

I'm running, running as fast as my legs will carry my body. Its takes me forever, but I finally come across the right door. I throw it open, and light pours out at me. Something erupts from the inside, and I can see everything clearly now.

The Cafeteria is amazing, no questions asked. I skim over all the bobbing heads, until I find the one curly red mop by the window. My heart is beating furiously for a number of reasons. First of all, I hope no one figured my secret other then Kyle. Second of all, I hope Kyle is a good sport about this game and appreciates the hours of photocopying I had to do last night.

I made a beeline for the oldest vending machine, and choose to buy a can of coke for lunch.

Then I march over the top, and into the danger zone. I held my breath as I approached the enemy.

"Hey Stan," Wendy smiles and pats the bench where she's sitting. I take a seat in-between her and Kyle.

"Aye dude," He said, before stealing a sip of my drink.

Nothings changed. And I guess things never really do.

Butters and Kenny come in last, and are forced to sit across from me beside Cartman. We all eat moderately slow, since our mouths are busy with other things.

Cartman is teasing Wendy about some hippie joke, and Butters and Kenny have their heads real close and are whispering urgently about important matters.

That leaves me and Kyle.

I sipped on my coke silently, just watching him gobble up his sandwich. He wiped his face on a napkin, and then shyly turned to me.

"Thanks dude," He hushed, blushing cutely.

I want nothing more than to ravish his Jew body all over cafeteria table but I find some willpower deep inside of me and leave him alone for the time being.

"Don't worry about it," I beam back, grinning like a full-blown idiot.

One second later the whole world around us is ending. We knew it was coming too. Our whole table stopped talking and eating, and just stared at each other's blank faces. My whole vision was going in slow-motion too, so I knew something was up. That's the thing about me; whenever I get a certain feeling my whole world plays out ten times slower. It's like whenever something rebellious or crazy is about to go down, my spidey senses tingle.

This time Cartman bellows out like a wounded beast. And I don`t see it at first, but all hell is breaking loose right behind me.

I turned my face slowly, and saw a delicious scene.

A big food fight had broken out in the cafeteria. All the tables are defending their nations, by sending aerial ammunition flying at all the over colonies. I saw a swirl of cheap colours colliding into each other, along with various body parts and other air-born objects. People were shrieking, while slurping nasty sounds and laughter filled the air.

And it was that first breath before laughter; I heard it somewhere in that huge room. I don't know who it was from or where they were. but the second their laughter reached my eardrum I was spraying brown liquid from my can all around me.

I don't bother to think over my actions or to contemplate the consequences. I'm young right now; I can worry about all that shit when I'm dead.

A slimly green bullet hit me right in the chest, and I'm forced to take cover. I let out an exhale of defeat, then got on my knees and crawled under our table. I hit my head on the edge, when I tried to see how the rest of my comrades were doing in this war.

I can't help but applaud what I saw. And I don't mean approve of it, because this whole turn of events is pretty kickass. I mean, I'm literally clapping my hands together like a child at a petting zoo.

Wendy is still in her seat, but she's trying to protect her new sweater with a lunch tray. Food bits are deflected off her tray, and she curses at them madly.

Kenny is shielding butters with one of his arms, and with his other arm he is also protecting him. Kenny threw chunks after chunks of crusty spaghetti at the popular table, hitting a crowd of defensive girls and their expensive clothes.

I laughed at his braveness, and vowed to give him a metal of greatness. Or maybe just treat him to lunch one day.

Kyle is also on the offensive, whipping cheese strings so fast; I swear the person who gets hit in the face will immediately break out in a rash. His hair is being ambushed with bologna pieces, and it's starting to look like a cornucopia of cafeteria food.

But hands down, Cartman is our greatest solider out on the field. For once in my life, I actually look up to his fatass and praise the ground he is walking on. Cartman is standing smack down in the middle of the table, his arms crawling away at the air. I swear on my grandma's life, he has his mouth open as far as it can, and he is catching food within it. He swivels his face like a rabid beast, then swallows that shit at lightning speed.

I fall over in pure bliss; not every first day of school can be this amazing.

Kyle lands beside be so quickly, I'm slightly alarmed. He slid in under the table and looked up at the bubble gum splattered table. He's laughing just as hard as I am, and his arm is pressing up against my bare arm.

I feel the pressure of his body beside mine.

And frankly I don't give a damn if our town is about to blow up in a fiery heap, I'm staying here beside my super best friend. Here with him for as long as humanly possible.

Well, I hope.

I wish.


End file.
